Sad, Beautiful, Tragic
by CanadianSnowflake
Summary: In the aftermath of Neverland, Killian and Emma struggle with blossoming relationships around them. "What is it like, you know? Being depressed?" He asks as if he was asking to borrow a pen. He was asking her a question she asked herself everyday. "It is drowning, and everyone else around you, they're breathing."
1. Sad

Her fingers drew gracefully, boarderlining on lazy over the ivory and black keys of the piano. She was playing her heartache in a song. She had always taken to music. An expression of emotion that lacked seriously in her life. Today was a day to be happy. Today was a day of forgiving, and yet could she really? Tamara had opted to marry Neal after all. After chasing through hell to find Henry, and then going to find him, almost killing herself, he still chose the other woman.

She didn't say anything out loud. Her mind said everything. Her mind went through a haphazard collection of memories with him. Her first love, her first major steal, her first trust, her first child, her first mistake. But he hadn't said anything to her. He was getting married here, in Storybrooke, so his father could see his son get married. She supposed he had at least thought of that. Considerate.

Emma's fingers stilled against the ivory keys. She walked to the table where the bridesmaids dress sat, unopened, unworn, unlooked at yet. She was debating wether or not to go. She debated and fought for her worn heart, but settled. She had broken things where her heart should be.

She unzipped the garment bag to find a tragically beautiful dress. It was beautiful, she would even admit that. An a-line, thigh high split midnight blue floor length dress with an off the shoulder neckline. It was beautiful. She ran her fingers daintilly over the delicate Spanish fabric. She saw the note to wear light gold makeup from Tamara. She sighed and went to take a shower. She walked up the stairs slowly.

She turned on the faucet of the shower in her bathroom and sat on the toilet and began to cry. It wasn't the kind of cry you gave when you were breaking up with someone, it was the kind of cry you gave when you lost your best friend. It was the kind of cry you cried when someone died. Her mind wandered to what she did wrong-why was she not good enough? She had done everything right. She had saved her son, she had saved Neal. She just hadn't saved herself.

The rain starts to bead and pound its sorrowful rythum against the window in her bathroom. She stands to briefly look at the couples running from the rain- and they were happy. She had given them happiness. In fact, she had given happiness to everyone in this damned town, except for herself. And she was a wreck because of it.

On her nights she cried, cried so hard wishing for this pain to end. But it wouldn't. The pain would never end, and no one would ever love her the way she loved him and that was the facts about it. She wasn't her parents. She wasn't Snow white and fucking Prince Charming. She was Emma Swan, the broken doll whose cracks on her porcelain face showed more and more each passing day.

She was drowning in this liquid death called life and no one was trying to save her. Her parents hadn't noticed, and you would think, no hope, that they would know their daughter. But they didn't. No one did and it killed her on the inside. It killed her that people she would die for, wouldn't do the same for her.

She took her clothes off and saw the marks she had made on her body. Cuts. Small but telling. No one had noticed. She didn't hide them well because she wanted to be found. She wanted someone to come and save her. She needed someone to come and save her and she prayed-no hoped again- that someone would.

But she knew no one would. She would continue this drowning game for a very long time, until life finally decided to help her and kill her. This was just the prolouge before her death. She stepped under the shower, and the water, although scadling hot didn't penetrate through her numb, cold and practically dead skin. You can't hurt an empty shell.

Her mind rang with promises, now made empty.

"We'll protect you," They said. They lied.

"We'll always be here for you," They said. They lied.

"We're never going to leave you," They said. A lie that was still stinging it's way through.

"We love you." They said. Perhaps the most believeable, and most lovely and evil to think of, to promise . But a lie, and the biggest, deepest one yet that no amount of time could heal.

And the people who made those promises? They walked away unharmed. They were singing in fields of blissful oblivousness to her pain. She was drowning. People had always told her drowning, what a beautiful and pleasureable way to go, but it was pure agony. You think of all the ways to ask for help when drowning, you beg for people to see you, to help you because you can't hold on any longer, but you never can exactly voice this.

You can't ask for help, not because you can't, but you can't burden them more with your pitiful cries, and thought seep into your brain that they will be happy when you're gone, because you won't burden them any longer. You won't hurt them, you won't cause them grief and pain and misery, you'll just be a droplet of water falling in a hailstorm of your own creation and fall into the ocean floor never to be heard from again. Forgotten.

And she knew this. She knew it was for the better. So she faked a smile, lying to herself and everyone else around her because they had to deal with her, so couldn't she at least make the job easier? Couldn't she at least be the better person? She had tried to drown her demons, but hell they knew how to swim, they also knew how to sink others. Clawing their way to the top of her mind, the top of her soul and thriving on the cuts marking her body.

She remembered the night, where she had gotten drunk with Hook (She called him Killian frequently, but she never said it to anyone but herself). He asked her if she was always sad. Always is such an awfully long time, a long, long, long time. And she couldn't because she tried to assure herself that she had known happiness and love once, but had She? She, in defense, asked him the same question and he laughed.

"I'm always angry, the most tragic kind of angry too. The one where you'll never feel better, nothing can fill this empty canvas inside of me." He said. And she understood in a way. She understood the emptiness. She thought Henry had filled it, no prayed, but he had left, gone back to Regina, because he actually believed in Regina. Emma was a means to an end, and she understood. You can't fix what's always been broken.

So Emma faked her smile, and got ready for the wedding, acting like she was happy, while secretly dying on the inside, painfully so. She remembered another conversation with Killian. "What is it like, you know? Being depressed?" He asked as if he was asking to borrow a pen. He was asking her a question she asked herself everyday. "It is drowning, and everyone else around you, they're breathing."


	2. Beautiful

Killian Jones was old. His body looked maybe about twenty nine, but he was old mentally. His body was physically and mentally scared with the age and wear of three hundred years of painstaking revenge, along with the hundred or so spent as a lost boy in Neverland. He was defintely old. Being old he had seen his fair share of beautiful women. But it stopped there. They didn't have personalities, and if they did, they screwed you in the end by being kniving bitches.

But Emma Swan, she was everything that he had ever wanted in a woman. She was strong, but when she broke, he could comfort her. She was beyond beautiful, her last name did her justice, as graceful as a swan. Her personality was a firecracker of emotions. Anger, justice, politeness, depression, willingness, intellegence, and above all, she was a unique blend of what time and a broken heart did to a woman. Gave her a wall so high, that no one could climb it. But he was determined to.

So, as she walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid, he was stunned. He stood on the groomsmen side, because for some God awful reason, Neal had wanted him to be there, for his mother. How tragic. The paleness of her skin contrasted wonderfully with the elegance of the dark dress. She almost floated down the aisle and Killian was positive every man in the church was gaping at the sheer beauty of such a bridesmaid. She had a smile on, that didn't reach her eyes. But to anyone else, who hadn't had a two a.m. session with Emma would think she was fine. 'But,' Killian thought to himself, 'if you had seen her breakdown in your arms, crying to God and to the world, you would know.'

He would see how she was drowning in life. You would see how Henry being with Regina killed the girl, the woman, because she had hoped someone wouldn't give up and leave her because no one deserved that. But you could tell she fought against the sadness that tried to corrupt her beautiful and gentle soul. She was fighting. And that is why he was in love with Emma Swan.

Emma Swan, was beautiful. Emma Swan was broken. But he was absolutely, undeniably in love with her. It wasn't just in her beauty, it was just in what she is. The kind of beauty men of his time killed and died for. The kind of humor that men didn't care for today. She was his salvation. She was the thing that made Killian Jones want to live again.

He had chased after the Crocodile for three hundred long and bloody years. And now, he could easily kill the coward. But he didn't. Because it would hurt her. And the fickle and cruel thing about love, is you can't hurt the ones you love. So as she walked down the aisle, he was transfixed on the very being of her. Because Killian Jones loved her.

The wedding started and the bride, Killian realized Neal was an idiot for first, abandoning Emma Swan, and second for marrying the man who almost killed himself and his son. She wasn't a pretty bride by any means. She was too over the top and he could see a few members of the audience grimace. It was then he noticed the marks adorning Emma Swan's skin. They were faint, but as a sailor, he had to notice things closely. There were marks and they were everywhere. She was cutting herself? How could that be?

The wedding proceeded on and he watched as Henry, the ring bearer, gave the rings to the two floozies standing at the altar. They were married, and he watched Emma's face the whole time. Clapping and smiling at the appropriate times. But the smile never reached her eyes and the clap was weak, nimble. Emma Swan was drowning and he had to save her.

* * *

The after party was just as tacky as the wedding. People laughed and smiled fakely. It was all so unreal. The only thing that was real was the look of discomfort on the beautiful Swan. She was drinking what looked to be bourbon from a glass while speaking with some other women. The new couple had shared their first dance and he noticed Emma had disappeared during that, but now everyone danced, and he felt like giving her a smile.

He walked up to her and asked bowing, "A simple dance from a beautiful swan?" He asked looking up to her. A flash of colorful emotions danced through the stormy eyes that reminded him so much of the sea. "A dance sounds nice," She said finally giving him a grin. He leaned up and kissed her knuckles.

He led her to the dance floor and felt the jolt of electricity crackle its way through his skin at her gentle touch. She was leaning into him. "You know, the smiles are getting better," He said. She looked up at him, slowly. "What?" She asked almost angrily. "Your smiles today have all been fake. You're drowning in your misery and it's so tragic for a woman like yourself," He said as if it was discussing the weather. She didn't say anything as he carried on.

"And you're this tragic beauty you are, and it makes me so sad to see you this way. The saddest kind of sad is the one that pretends to be okay. I understand in someway, I felt much like you did when Milah died," He said. He was talking, rambling, but he needed her to know.

"And I'm not saying you go on a three hundred year revenge quest, because that wouldn't be good, but I'm saying you move on. Maybe it's your first love that sticks with you, because it's the only person who will ever recieve all of you. After that, you learn better. But most of all, a small piece of you will forever remain in the heart of the one you once loved, a piece no future lover will ever get to see, touch or heal, because it's gone. Forever trapped. This piece contains your innocence, the belief that love can last forever, and what a beautiful piece it is. But it's just pretty. It's neieve and dumb and lacks common sense, but it thrives on hope. It holds that belief that love can really last forever. It holds friendship and pain, loss, trial and error. It holds that one kiss, one night you'll never ever forget because your heart is trapped, just like Graham's was for so long." He said. Her eyes held tears.

"And sometimes, sometimes when you're drowning, you don't see the ones around you looking to help." He said. Her eyes widened, as if she knew what he was about the say, but he just couldn't. "I love you Emma Swan. I know you don't love me, and that's okay, and you may never love me, but I will fight for you, your happiness and that piece of heart that he holds because you have changed me. For three hundred years I wanted to kill one man, and you came in and you changed everything." He said. She stood there for a long time, unspeaking, and so did he.

She stepped back, thanked him for the dance and left. He stood there, motionless for what seemed like forever, before feeling the heartbreak crush his entire being with the kind of pain he had never felt. He had never felt this pain, this bone crushing, soul crushing pain. So he walked to the bar, where Ruby sat and she raised a eyebrow. "Tough night?" She asked as he poured back a heavy shot. "Tough century," He mumbled. She walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "How's about we make it better?" She asked. He looked up and smirked. Killian Jones had died again. Captain Hook winked. "Lead the way darling.

It was sex. In every sense of the word. There wasn't speaking besides anger cursing their past loves. He literally didn't give a damn about this girl. He knew this was dumb. He knew that in the women's bathroom was stupid. They had locked every door, but she managed to come in, and Ruby, locked around his waist, he had hid in a stall.

Emma was crying. "Mom, he said he loved me and," She was crying so hard now. "I'm too screwed up for him, he doesn't deserve me," She cried. His heart swelled at that. Ruby had stilled too. "Of course," Emma said. "I can't recover again, mom if another man breaks me," She said. She was sobbing now. "I can't, I can't," She cried. "I love him mom and he doesn't deserve me. How can I love someone I barely know?" She asked. And he was shocked.

This girl, loved him. And she had been so scared, and he thought it rejection. Ruby gasped and Killian wanted to cry when he heard Emma open the door. She dropped the glass of champagne, the glass crashing on the floor and the drink bubbling with it. Her watery eyes were stunned. "I'll call you later," Emma said slowly into the phone. No one spoke. Ruby was still locked around his waist and looking over her shoulder at Emma, shocked.

Emma's eyes narrowed dangerously and he prepared himself. He prepared for the angry curses, her right hook to his face. But none of that came. Her eyes became ones of sorrow, loneliness, depression and defeat. No amount of his "preparation" could have prepared him for what she said next. "I was just another promise someone couldn't keep." She said smiling sadly. It was her first genuine smile of the day. He stared at the spot where she had just left.

* * *

Neal walks up to her. She hides her shock well, but he looks at her, concern on his face. She shakes her head. "I wanted to tell you, thank you." She says. His eyes widen in surprise, and she knows it's a change. "For a year of my life, I was so, so happy. And you gave that to me. And you gave me a son, and a direction. You led me to my parents and so many great people," She says. His eyes show surprise, followed by a loving sadness. "But here," She says taking off the Swan necklace she's worn for eleven years.

He looks at it. "I just needed you to have it, and don't ask me why," She says a smile playing flirtily on her lips. He laughs and she jock punches his shoulder. He hugs her. "It'll be good Emma. You'll get there." He whispers in her ear. And he kisses her cheek and she does the same, before turning. She see's Killian and looks down. "Goodbye Neal," She says.

She turns and leaves. She makes it outside, the cool autumn air tickling her skin. She knows what she has to do. She gets in her car and drives to her apartment. She starts to throw clothes into a bag. She won't need much. Her apartment in Boston still has some stuff. She changes from her dress and leaves it on her bed. She's crying the whole time. She sits down to write people letters. Her parents, Henry, Hook, Regina and even Gold. Letting them know what she needed them to do.

She walked down the stairs, gave her apartment a smile, and turned to the door. The last thing she hears, before the door clicks shut, is the sound of the rain pounding gently into her home, and the tears pounding roughly into her heart.


	3. Tragic

She drove to Regina's. The light was on in the office, so she was glad she was up. She parked her car and carefully walked up the pathway. She knocked on the door. She heard Regina answer. Surprise dotted her face. "Ms. Swan," She said. "Hi Regina." Emma said. "What are you doing here so late at night?" She asked. Emma laughed sadly. "I need you to give this to Henry. And my parents and anyone else I wrote to okay?" I asked feeling tears in my eyes.

"You're leaving?" she asked. Emma nodded. "I'm drowning here Regina. I can't stay here being like this and burdening the people around me. I won't be gone forever, just for a little while," Emma said. She looked at her before nodding. "Alright, what should I tell Henry?" She asked. "I think it's time you told him that you got full custody," Emma said touching her arm. Regina had fought dirtily for Henry, and ended up getting him. Emma had fought so hard, but Regina had names in the town that she didn't. Regina seemed surprised but nodded. "Tell him I love him, and that I know he doesn't love me right now, but it's for the best," She said.

Regina actually looked upset. Emma sighed. "Thank you. Take care of yourself okay?" Emma asked. Regina nodded. Emma pulled the woman in for a hug. "Thank you for doing what I couldn't." Emma whispered and Regina felt tears stinging in her eyes. Emma turned and left. She got in her car, crying the whole way, but she passed the sign for Storybrooke and didn't look back.

* * *

She's gone for a year. A year intent on finding herself, and getting rid of the tragedy that sickened her life. She finds out some things about herself by seeking phone calls with Archie. He becomes her therapist as she describes everything that happened to her. He diagnoses her as seriously depressed and sends her medication to her apartment in Boston.

She gets better shortly after. He also helps her work through her abandonment issues. She's feeling better, better than ever. She's healthy, she's going to get there, but she's still reeling in pain over Killian. Her heart still aches each night with the thought, she wasn't good enough. She was the best girl until he met another and she understood that he had emotions and opinions. It didn't mean that she agreed with them, but she understood. She realizes that humans are broken shards of hearts and broken promises, and she's praying he'll come back.

The first week, after she had left, before she had called Archie, she had prayed he'd wake up and go find her. He could leave Storybrooke, he had proven that when going after his revenge. He never came. Each night, she would dress up in her best and sit on the couch, holding an empty wine glass in her hands, and praying to God he'd come bursting in the door and tell her he was sorry. He never did.

He didn't call. He didn't text. He didn't write. No one did. Except one. A letter came one day, it was from Gold.

_Ms. Swan,_

_Hello. I suppose this letter may come as a surprise to you, especially as you read what the content speaks of, but I thought you should know. You left maybe five months ago, leaving us all letters, you asked me a favor. Don't kill Hook until you returned. I thought for a very long time, on why, why would you ask me this? Why would you, Emma Swan, a tough girl with a tough exterior ask me to save a villans life? And it hit me: You love him._

_I judged this love for days. I spoke of it with Regina and your mother, and both seemed leary of why, but I realized love comes in the most oddest of forms. Belle chose to love me in my darkest days, as you have done with Hook. He came to me, many a times looking to spur me on, and I never killed him._

_I asked him one time, as he stood bloodied and bleeding profusely and I the same, and asked him, "Was her love not good enough boy?" He seemed confused, and it took the theif- sorry, Pirate, a moment and he realized it was about you. "She never loved me like she claimed," He spat back. Now, do not be disheartened. He's as broken as you were, I am sure you are very damaged now after his affair with the wolf girl (I'll speak of her in a moment). I had an object, that could show the love of a person, only if they showed mutual feelings. I brought it to him. I showed him. You're his true love. But he didn't believe me._

_A few weeks later he asked the wolf girl to marry him and I must ask, are you willing to let true love die like that? Or will you fight? Miss Swan it is all up to you, but true love deserves a chance._

_All the best_

_-Rumplestiltskin_

Emma stared at the letter for a long time, unsure, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. How could you answer that. Emma had cried a lot, that was sure. But she knew. She understood what she had to do. She chose the choice that was the most unselfish in her eyes.

_Mr. Gold,_

_He deserves happiness. It's hard to forget someone who made so many memories with you. But if you really love someone, you'll know when to let go and make them happy._

_Best wishes._

-_Emma._

She stared at the wedding invitation he had given her, and all she thought of was, 'As long as he's smiling and happy, that's all that matters'.

* * *

The day he and Ruby were married, Emma had counted down, Emma cried the whole day on her couch.

* * *

After a year in hiding, she drove to Storybrooke, intent on finding him. Instead, all she saw from the town was trees. She had lost it. "NO!" She yelled. She took her spare flashlight, and a phone and started to run. "MOM! DAD! HENRY! KILLIAN!" She shouted. She was running through thick forest. "MOM PLEASE!" She cried. She was crying, dying on the inside.

"PLEASE YOU CAN'T GO!" She shouts. She is standing in the middle of a clearing where there should be something anything. And she feels the bullet pierce her lung and then she's falling. And it hurts. God-everything hurts so much. "Emma?" A voice asks. She can't make out who it is, but she wonders if it matters. She's falling to the floor, the cold, snowy winter ground colliding with her body.

She see's her blood drip out into, onto the snow, seeping in. A wicked thought, that her mother was once like this too.

She's gasping. The person picks her up. She knows them-who is it? Neal. It's Neal. "Emma," He says. And suddenly she's in Storybrooke. She hears people gasping as Neal is running her, sprinting her to the hospital and she hears her mother's strangled cry and Emma wants to cry, because God-she missed her mother.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Mary Margaret yells. Neal is still running. "Stop," She gasps. "My mother," She says. "Emma you're dying," Neal says. Emma shakes her head. "I want to die with him, my son and Killian, please," She begs. And Neal stops. Emma's bled onto his shirt, but she looks at him. "Fine." He says. He turns around and runs to the harbor, shouting to Mary Margaret. "HENRY. Get him. She asked for this, bring him to Hook's ship." Neal says. Mary Margaret looks to Emma. "I won't die on you yet MOM," Emma gasps.

She nods and Mary Margaret takes off, praying to God her daughter will be alright. Neal runs her to the harbor, where Hook's ship beautifully floats. "Hold on beautiful," He says. She's gasping again. "HOOK!" Neal shouts. Killian runs onto the deck, and Emma swears he's taken what's left of the breath out of her chest and she lets her hand fall limp. It hurts. everywhere.

"NO EMMA!" Neal yells. He drops her to the deck and puts a hand over her wound to compress the amount of blood gushing. She's gasping and Killian moves Neal to the side. "Emma," Killian says. She puts her hypothermic hands, shakily to his face. "How is it possible for someone to be even more beautiful than the last time I saw him?" She asks, she notices the blood on her hands. She's just covered in the stuff. The pain has faded.

"I'd say the same for you love," He says. "MOM!" Henry yells. Killian stands up. "NO!" Emma shrieks. Her chest is bleeding. "STOP THE BLEEDING!" She hears someone yell. She looks to Henry. She takes her bloody, shaking hand to his face. "My boy, my darling baby boy," She whispers, a smile coming to her face. "Mom, you're gonna be fine," Henry says starting to cry. "I am so," She says gasping through pain. "PROUD of you," She says.

Dr. Whale rushes on board. "I can save her!" He says. He's trying, she'll admit that. Finally, her heart is thumping it's last beats. She see's Killian's blurry image. "I've loved you since the day I was born." She manages to squeeze out through her breath. Dr. Whale puts a mask over her mouth. Air is rushing through her lungs.

Her mother is crying on her father's shoulder. David is crying too. Henry cries on a teary Regina and Hook stands there. She feels nothing as Whale operates. She knows she'll die. Her eyes are fluttering closed.

* * *

She struggles back to life four days later. She's in a hospital bed. Constant attention looming around her, making sure she is okay. Her lung was punctured severly, but with an amount of stitching she would recover. Killian hadn't left her side. He hadn't wanted to. No one could coax him into leaving. It felt like a part of him had died. THe image of her gaspig and bleeding out on his desk haunted him. She had come back. She was here. She almost died, but she was here.

Now she just needed to wake up.

* * *

Her eyes opened to a white sterile light blinding her and she gasped, grabbing oxygen into her lungs. She instantly starts to cough. She sees stitches and bandages covering her body and an oxygen tank feeding her. She feels her bandage around her cracked ribs.

She turns her head to the side and is surprised to find a sleeping Killian. His hand rests over hers. She runs her fingers over the tops of his hands. Is it possible for someone to become even more beautiful since the last time you saw them? "Killian," She whispered. He stirred slightly. His eyes sleepily opened.

She was staring at the ocean. He looked tired, less lively than when she last saw him. "Emma," He says, his eyes open. "Hi," She says simply, it hurts to talk. He has tears burning in his eyes. "God Killian, you look like you haven't slept in years," She says. She moves over. He gets in the bed next to her carefully and she lays on his chest.

His hand runs over her arm. "I'm so sorry," He whispers. "Just a flesh wound," She said in a wheez. "Emma," He said looking at her crumpled form. Her body was thin, her skin drawn tightly over her bones. "You haven't been taking care of yourself love," He whispers. She lets out a strangled breath.

"I have nothing to take care of myself for," She said in the saddest voice he'd ever heard. Her eyes blanked in pain. There was a knock on the door. Ruby stood at the door looking at them. "Emma," She said. Emma didn't say anything, just stared at the ring on her finger. A pain shot through her chest, and she gasped.

Doctors rushed into her room but she could only stare at Killian and Ruby holding each other.


End file.
